


mist

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, I'm tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her mind is clouded and she's fading in and out of this paradise, but thinking isn't really important right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. drizzle

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't beta this and i'm also really tired and i am w e a k for drunk-on-each-other-sin and save me from everything at this point
> 
> enjoy!

What is he doing to her?

She wonders this idly, eyes reflexively shut as she tries to calm her heart, to slow its beating. Right now her ribs are rattling and her arms are looped around his neck, desperately trying to pull him closer. His head tilts and his lips feel for the underside of her jaw, biting gently and kissing the spot afterwards. 

She doesn't know how long she's been in his grasp, so fully under his control. With his arms around her waist she's locked in place, sat gently on his lap. The room has faded into dull silence and it echoes in her ears, mouth half open as he continues his actions, dotting her jaw with small bites and her neck with bruises she hopes she can cover up tomorrow. 

Her breath has left her for some time now, leaving her lungs to collapse as his mouth trails to her collarbone, fingertips gently brushing the hem of her thin tank top. He latches on to the skin and he starts all over again, mouth curling into a smile against her skin when he feels her goosebumps rise. Her fingers snake into his hair and she bites down on her lip to keep from making any sound, hoping and praying for him to take her quickly in the darkness of night. 

He doesn't though. Instead he lets his lips trail lower, reaching the edge of her shirt. She stills, hoping that he can't hear her heart trying to beat out her chest before him, the sound so painfully loud in her ears. His hands are scalding on her bare skin, a branding when they make contact with her waist, gently running under her pink top. She wants to die quietly in his arms. It would be a safe place to go, a heaven in this earth. 

When his fingers are done scaling the skin that stretches over her ribs, they gently move to cover her stomach, rubbing small paths of heat into her skin. Her thoughts are getting filthier, vivid images of what she wants him to do to her replaying in her mind on a loop, and she can't bring herself to stop. His fingers stop just before the swell of her chest and he detaches himself from her shoulder to whisper out a hoarse "okay?", watching her intently. 

She knows what's about to happen and it's like she's been waiting years for this, so she nods and breathes out her own "okay". Then she lets down every guard she could ever have and feels his calloused touch on her tender skin for the first time. He's slow with it, gently cupping each breast with one hand and slowly dragging his thumb over the skin. He feels her goosebumps migrate here now, an alphabet of braille under her skin. She mewls softly and slams a hand over her mouth, eyes widening when she realises how loud that sounded to her in the silence of her room, almost like an obnoxious chuckle in a dead silent library. 

His head shoots up from her shoulder and he looks at her questioningly, fingers pausing under her shirt. He tries to pull his hands away from her, mouth curling into a frown as he fears that he has hurt her, crossed a line she was unwilling to step over. She shakes her head feverishly, hands flying out to take his and put them back where they were. She should be embarrassed at how needy she feels, but she brushes it off, mind hazy. Her delicate fingers slowly pry away from his wrists and move to the back of his neck again, pulling him close enough for their ragged breaths to fan each other's face. 

She blinks and almost drowns in the green of his eyes, falling endlessly as her breath hitches in her throat, like a bubble trapped underwater. Hesitantly his thumbs move again, flicking over her sensitive flesh with the same precision of a surgeon. She sharply inhales and her arms pull him closer again, just enough for her to kiss him chastely, while a red flush begins to decorate her face. She feels the pad of his finger glide along the skin around her nipples, slow and hot and enough to make her breath come back to her in short bursts. 

Suddenly she wants to do something rash and the only thought in her mind to satisfy this need is to take her shirt off, so she tries to follow through. She worms her way out of his grasp and shushes him when he tries to ask if he's done anything wrong, hands going to the hem of her shirt and slowly pulling the thin material off. Once the majority of the pink tank is over her arms she flings it somewhere in her room, the sudden awareness of her audience making her cover herself with her arms. She steals a glance at his face and he's looking at her like she was some form of goddess to be worshipped, his hands immediately going to wrap around her torso. 

He pulls her to him so that their mouths can collide together, a messy clicking of teeth but they don't care enough about that to pull away. Slowly her hands drop to her sides and that is when he moves away, lips swollen as he takes the chance to admire her. While his eyes commit this image to memory his hands roam over her sides, eliciting more goosebumps and gasps from her. There's something different about her skin when his fingertips are marking out constellations over it, something about how responsive she was to each movement. She bites her lip and tries not to think about devouring him, fighting back the urge to kiss him again and again so that he can fully appreciate her form. 

His hand slides up her spine, igniting fires along the paths he traces. His hands cradle her waist and her back, slowly pulling her closer to him. Almost desperately he dips his head back down to kiss her, feeling her pressed flush against him. Her hands get antsy and she fumbles for the hem of his t-shirt, fingers slipping under the black material and prodding the skin there. She maps out his abdomen with her fingertips, tracing over each muscle with the dexterity of a seamstress. Somewhere in her mind she remarks on how he might as well be one of those marble statues in the louvre, all chiseled and cut to perfection. 

He pulls away at some point, breath fanning across her face as he stares at her, somehow looking beyond her eyes, staring straight into her. She wants to drown again, but instead her legs tighten around him and her hands embark on their own journey up his back, fingertips like satin against his skin. She traces the relief of his back, the faint indent of his spine under her fingers. He shudders and leans his forehead onto hers, breathing heavily with his pupils blown wide with her. For a moment he pulls away and hastily discards his shirt, leaving him partially unclothed for her eyes only. 

Her gaze drifts away from his eyes and makes it way to his torso, eyes following the ridges cut into his abdomen. Her mouth goes dry at the thought of having that as hers for the rest of time, something she'd get to see forever and always. Simultaneously he can't tear his eyes away from her torso, gaze sliding over abs and muscles he never knew she had, occasionally stealing glances at her chest. A switch turns in his head and suddenly he wants to taste her, to devour her whole. 

So he wraps himself around her again and kisses her like the world was going to end, a drastic change from any innocent one they had shared previously. His tongue darts out to gently probe her lips and she graciously allows him in, turning her head to give him better access. All the while they don't realize it but he's slowly pushing her down, hands on her back stabilizing her. She only realizes it when her shoulder blades rest against the soft sheets, her limbs still hooked around him. 

She whispers his name when his fingers slide away from her back to toy with her chest again, lithe fingers gently kneading the flesh with slow, even strokes. His thumb flicks experimentally over her nipple and she stiffens, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. He watches her head tip back, a hungriness devouring him again.


	2. shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well........... fuck i guess lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who didn't beta lmaooo ~~it's gonna get filthy in chapter 3 i promise~~
> 
> enjoy!

His blood is racing in his ears and he doesn't feel his tongue darting out to wet his lips, eyes trained on hers intently. She's reeling from his touch, her body a mess under his. She doesn't know how she managed to tangle herself into this state but she has other things to worry about, such as his lips on her neck and his hands on her body. Her fingers are already nestled into her hair and her nails into the skin of his back, tensing as he kneads her breasts with his hands, fingers flicking over her nipple every so often, mostly just because he can.

It's sending sparks up her spine and there's a low whine building up at the back of her throat, suppressed by her need to stay silent. She wants to say something, anything to tell him how good everything he was doing felt, but she feels like little more than a puddle now, a collapsing house of cards under him. Meanwhile he bites down on the sensitive flesh at the crook of her neck and kisses the spot better, only half aware of what he was doing to her. 

With her eyes shut it's not too hard to feel his lips slowly leaving her neck for the time being, a trail of kisses worming down to her collarbone. He takes his time to decorate the area, the sound of her heart beating at a rapid pace the only thing he can hear over her silence of her room. She bites down on her lip because she knows what's coming next, but even then the pain of her teeth digging into her pink lip isn't enough to distract from the utterly alien but surprisingly pleasant feeling of his mouth on her chest. She exhales sharply, hand snaked into his hair forming a claw in the blond strands. 

His head tilts upwards to look at her curiously, trying to read her body language. He detaches his mouth from her skin with a pop and watches as her eyes fly open, hand in his hair trying to press him back to her. In a tiny whisper she says "it's okay" and he wishes that they didn't have to be quiet that night, just so that they could actually communicate with each other. In the moonlight he can see that her face is flushed and her pupils blown wide, her hair a mess of tangled strands. He almost feels shocked that he's managed to make such a mess out of her in such a short time, but the hunger for her in his chest demands more, more, more. 

Slowly he dips his head back down and latches onto her skin again, gently sucking on the flesh as she shudders, a sharp inhale escaping her. Experimentally he moves around her right breast, slowly taking her nipple into her mouth and gently running his tongue over it, watching as her mouth drops open and a sound almost escapes, but she swallows it before she can get the first syllable out. He glances back up at her face and she nods furiously as a pressure begins to build up between her thighs, a faint throb starting to fall in line with her heartbeat. He removes himself from her and moves to the left side of her chest, trying to give it as much attention as her other breast. 

She doesn't know exactly what she's feeling but it's so good that she could burst. When he finally surfaces from her skin he can see all the marks he's left on all the places he had explored, a constellation marking her as his. With a gentle yet firm tug on his hair she pulls him back up to be level with her, enough for her to kiss him again. Her eyes shut and it feels like heaven in his arms. Her skin is almost raw from the torment of his mouth and it's surprisingly pleasant to her, despite how it would take ages to go away when the morning came. 

Despite the incredibly effective distraction of his lips, the fire deep within her rages on and on, begging to be set free. She tries to put out the feeling racing up her veins but his hands on her sides pull her away from her efforts again, making her disregard rationality for lust. He pulls away eventually, leaning his forehead onto hers and just watching as her pupils dilate more and more, drunk on his very essence. Her hand lifts to cup the side of his face, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip, watching as he stares into her. In this moment she realizes how much she wants him, the thought slowly but surely forming a coherent sentence in the back of her throat. 

At the same time he mirrors her, one hand sliding to fit the curve of her waist and the other sliding towards her face, thumb running over her cheekbone to the delicate structure of her lips. There's a flame raging behind his eyes, she notes, thumb moving over his cheek in a back forth motion. She exhales a few more times before she can finally try to get the words out, a messy whisper into the silence. In her daze she can vaguely feel her lips closing in around the words "I want you" and she drowns herself in the soft groan that leaves him, a tiny feeling of power registering in her head. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and watches his eyes follow her movements, before he leans in and kisses her again. 

It feels so innocent but she feels him whisper the same words back to her against her lips, drawn out and desperate as he tries to consume all of her. Her mind blanks out and she lets her body take over, one leg tentatively hooking around his hips, pulling him closer to her. She breathes and shifts and suddenly his hips are pressed firmly against hers, eliciting a whine from deep within her throat. The throbbing between her thighs only gets worse with the added pressure of his bulge, now a dull ache at the back of her mind. Any rational thoughts left in her mind start to fade away, her appetite for him now overwhelming her.


	3. storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the thrilling conclusion and the rating bump of only slight shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok honestly this series should be called appetite because i talk about how much they want to consume each other too much but ANYWAY here it is. in all it's unbeta'd glory. the fuckening. 
> 
> enjoy!

In the back of her mind she wants to comment on how much of a mess they've made of each other, on the clothes discarded on her floor. Instead her hips rock lightly against his, the friction between their still clothed bodies a fraction of what was to come, she hopes. She could die peacefully right about now, she considers, her shorts and underwear now the only thing left before they finally dug in to each other. Her nails are drawing patterns into the skin of his back, dancing smoothly in irregular movements across the muscle and bone. She's stuck in the limbo of not wanting to pull away and wanting to devour him whole, but he decides for her by pulling away abruptly. 

In short bursts he asks her if he should stop, each word punctuated by a gasp for air. His hands are roaming over her body and she allows herself tiny whimpers when they run over her chest, drawing goosebumps to the surface. Soon they start to dip lower and trace the unexplored area of her stomach, gliding closer and closer to the heat between her thighs, drawing firm circles on each of her hipbones. He looks at her again and repeats his question, voice lost as his fingers dip towards the waistband and dart away, her pulse under his fingertips. She can barely get an answer out with how hard she's breathing but she manages it in the end, nodding. 

He holds his breath as his fingers inch back down towards the band of her shorts and slides the layer down, her legs kicking off the black material when they reach her ankles. Instinctively he runs his finger over her through the soaked fabric and she can't help but shudder, the sheer amount of pressure between her hips mounting. He feels smug, somewhere deep within him, that he's managed to do this, that he could say this was his doing. She inhales sharply as he runs over a spot that makes her gasp, almost too loud in the dead silence of the night. It prompts him to do it over and over again. The feeling is almost too much, too good for her to handle, making her melt beneath him. But then again, she thinks, she would rather melt with him in her as opposed to how they were right now, so she places a hand on his bicep and uses all her strength to roll them over.

With a soft thump he's on his back and she's nestled delicately on his abdomen, legs straddling his torso. For a moment they're both stunned at the sudden change of position, heartbeat pausing and restarting in the same second. Her hands rest on his chest, propping her up over him. It takes him a second to realize the new reality of this situation, and another for his hands to fly to her hips, sneakily finding their way into the lace band of her underwear. She looks over him and notes how flushed he is, the exact shade of red his cheeks had become. Her eyes rake down his body, making her suddenly aware of the bulge she was almost sitting on, reminding her of what they had yet to take off. She kisses him once and moves to undo the knot of his sweatpants, slowly dragging the grey fabric down his legs, much like what he had done for her. 

On it's way down she kisses the skin she's uncovered, over his hipbones and right before the band of his underwear. She listens to his sharp inhale and moves away from the area, trailing her way back up to his neck. Her lips can feel his pulse as they transverse over his skin, ghosting over jawlines and offering an innocent peck to him before she inhales and kisses him deeply, hips gently grinding down onto his. He yelps but she swallows the sound with her kiss. She feels powerful, at last, so she does it again, feeling him stiffen under her. She can feel him gasping weakly into her, body giving away more than what she had expected. The ache between her hips worsens and she feels like she's soaked through her underwear completely, the damp patch a magnet for friction against his boxers. 

“F-fuck," he half moans, breaking away to tip his head back, the feeling of her pressed against him too much to bear. She stops and watches his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows frantically, trying not to be overcome by the feeling. His head snaps back forward and he smiles sheepishly, the coil in his stomach slowly loosening, falling slack as he whispers his explanation to her. 

"Too good," he says, and the definite haze in her eyes shows him what's still on her mind. Slowly she leans down and kisses the spot where his ear meets his face, biting down gently in a manner that mirrored his previous actions. Her body feels fluid, actions natural despite how mechanical they feel, driven by her body's need for him. "Do you still want me?" she asks, the question dripping from her lips like sugar syrup. Her voice is almost gone, lost in lust. She wants him to know that she needs him like she needs air right now, more than she can possibly take. She can almost hear his pulse quicken in her ears, the beat rapid and frantic as she pulls herself back, letting the ends of her hair ghost across his face as she retreats. 

"God, yes." He breathes and brushes her unruly hair away from her face, fingers caught in tiny tangles. He finds his way to the small of her back, rubbing tiny circles into the skin as she watches. "But wait," he says suddenly, hand leaving her hair to methodically pull her pillows together, forming a messy pile before the headboard. She blinks as she sees her pink pillows forming some form of organised mess behind him, watching half heartedly as her mind goes back to imagining what he would do to her, until he stops building his pillow fort, as she likes to call it. With one arm he props himself up and scoots back towards the wall of pillows, the other around her waist dragging her with him. The motion sends her rocking forward on him and she almost whimpers at the contact, back unconsciously arching into him. He gently lifts her up and sets her down before him, standing on his knees before whispering a question to her. 

"Trust me?" She nods at his question, mouth too dry to say anything. His hands land on and start to shift down her body, cold fingers digging into hot skin before they land squarely on the lace of her underwear, digging under the fabric gently. With a trembling hand he slowly pulls the garment away from her, until it hit the sheets. She moves to pull it all the way off and throws it somewhere in her room. She bites her lip as she realizes the true extent of what he's done to her, the slick mess between her legs throbbing. She turns back to him and her own fingers find the waistband of his boxers, fingers digging into his hips. With her breath in her throat she pulls the fabric down and watches as he springs free, looking almost painfully hard and swollen. He goes to pull the garment off all the way as well, leaning over the side of the bed for a second longer before reemerging with a small foil packet. 

She gives herself the second to ogle him and wonder how the hell she was ever going to fit him into her, her hand finding its way to her center as her mind blanks out. She absentmindedly runs her finger over herself, barely shocked when there's nothing but dampness. She only realizes how wet she is when she slides her finger into herself just for the hell of it and finds little resistance as it slides past the last knuckle, when on normal days she would be struggling to even get half an inch in. Her little gasp is when she looks up to find him watching her intently, body reclining on the pillows. She can feel her skin flare up hotly under his gaze, but she surprises herself by moving to him, letting herself hover over him. 

She grabs on to his shoulders and positions herself over him, one hand delicately guiding him in as she slides down. There's no pain at all and she lets out her first real moan that night, an indulgence when she'd been trying so hard to keep quiet for the most part. She trembles as something shoots up her spine, making her rest her head on his shoulder. She can hear him groan as well, the sound echoing in her ears. His hands rise to hold onto her waist, firmly gripping the flesh as she tries to recover from his entry. She breathes and tries to convince herself he wouldn't feel this good later on, her lungs rattling in her chest. It's a lie and she knows it but it gives her enough courage to experimentally move up and sink back down onto him. 

"Fuck," she whispers as the feeling intensifies, pleasure multiplying threefold. She goes through the motions a few more times but she can barely keep up, leaving him to take over by moving her instead. His hands guide her hips to grind over him in small circles, the action making her yelp and bite down on his shoulder. Her head is pressed against him, mouth trying to muffle her noises by pressing into his skin, but it's not helping much. He's just as much a mess as she is, his head buried in her hair to quieten his sounds. With their combined efforts they find a pace that makes her spine tingle just enough and his toes curl just enough, making her eyes water as the feeling ripples through her like the surface of a lake. 

They lift their heads at the same time and it takes them a simple look before they crash themselves together again, trying to eat the other whole.


End file.
